Hume Nisbet: Fireworks
by Official Rambler
Summary: At a New Year's party in London, Cain and Merryweather fall into the company of two people, brother and sister. Kitty and Mel seem nice, but could secrets from their past prove... deadly?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Don't own Hakushaku/Count/Earl Cain Series et cetera. If I did… um, well, this wouldn't be fanfic, and I wouldn't be posting it here._

* * *

"You take that back, you little brat!" Merryweather stormed, chasing after Edgar Lavot, the youngest and most obnoxious member of the entire Lavot family.

"You'll never catch me, wench!" Edgar called over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue. Barring adult intervention, he was probably right. Merry's party dress didn't suit chasing after annoying little boys very well, and made navigating through all the people in the ballroom much more difficult for her.

Cain almost hadn't let Merry come to this, the spectacular New Year's party hosted at the Lavot family mansion every year. But she had begged, and it _was_ New Year's, after all, so he had finally given in, on the condition that she didn't get into trouble. To be fair, Merry had made Cain promise the same thing, but it seemed as though for once it would be Merry unable to uphold this promise.

"Nyah!" teased Edgar, dodging in between two fine ladies' humungous crinolines. Merry harrumphed and changed course. If she could just get around the table with the punch bowl, she could head him off. Edgar thought she was still chasing him directly, so when Merry appeared around the side of the table, he nearly had a heart attack. Merry lunged to grab at his hair, but Edgar dodged at the last minute, knocking into a short girl in white, causing her to spill punch all down the front of her dress.

"Gah!" cried the girl, stumbling. Merry stopped short.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, grabbing part of the tablecloth to dab at the bright red stain that marred the girl's white skirt.

"Bugger!" Edgar squeaked, paling, and fled.

"You smarmy yellow git!" Merry called after him angrily. "I'm so sorry!" she assured the girl of white, looking up at her face. She didn't have to look very far, for although the girl was dressed in a lady's gown, she was only a few inches taller than Merry.

"Oh, no," sighed the girl, unhappily dabbing at the stain. "This will _never_ come out!" She was a pretty girl, with a round, childish face and unusually short blonde hair, and the trim on her dress was matched to her aqua eyes.

"I'm so sorry," repeated Merry. "It's all that beast Edgar's fault! You should make him pay for the dress."

"No, no," sighed the girl. "It's just… oh, my brother told me not to wear white, he warned me something like this would happen! But I didn't listen to him, and wore the dress anyway, because I love white, and it is New Year's after all. And now I feel so guilty!" Merry went stiff with amazement. The girl's eyes were actually filling with tears.

"Just explain to him, he'll understand!" Merry assured her. "If he's a good brother, he will, anyway."

"It's not that, I know he will. But I still feel guilty because of all the trouble he went through about the dress," sniffed the girl. A smile broke through the tears, and Merry couldn't help but smile in response. "I'm Kitty Howard, by the way."

"Merryweather Hargreaves," replied Merry, and waited for the inevitable.

"I've heard that name recently," said Kitty, tilting her head to one side. "I wonder where?"

"Probably the gossip column," sniffed Merry. "My brother's always getting himself into it."

"Hah, really? That must get annoying," Kitty grinned, but then her face fell again. "Oh, it's no good. I'll keep feeling guilty until I explain to Mel about the dress…"

"Really?" Merry asked. "Your brother? If he's really that scary, just don't tell him!"

"No!" Kitty exclaimed. "He's just quirky. I have to tell him though, if I don't, it'd be like being dishonest! I'd feel bad all evening, anticipating."

"I'll go with you to talk to him, and take the blame," offered Merry, because, well, it seemed the right thing to do. Kitty laughed.

"You don't have to," she said, but took Merry by the hand, and, scanning the room, led her off towards one side.

There was only one man by the table near the window, and he was hunched over antisocially, munching on biscuits. Kitty, upon registering this, started a little and frowned.

"Hiding in the corner eating all the refreshments! Again!" she muttered, but seemed reluctant to go any further. Merry had to tow her up to her brother. He turned, and blinked down at the two of them sleepily. In reality, he wasn't all that tall, but his sister only came up to his chin, so he seemed taller. Not, Merry reflected, taller than Cain, but only just barely shorter. His hair was gingery-blonde, just long enough to resemble a haystack, and he was much fairer of skin than his sister, with a vaguely unhealthy glow. Lazy gray eyes with fair lashes as long as a girl's were the defining features of a long, thin, but evenly featured face.

"Umm…" Kitty started. "Mel?" Mel's gaze rested on the scarlet stain on Kitty's ruffles. All at once, he went rigid, expression stricken, and staggered back, one hand clutched to his heart. "Mel!" exclaimed Kitty, dashing forward. He began to slide down the wall, still dramatically posed. Kitty was grinning now, as she grabbed her brother by the lapels. "Stop fooling around!"

"Oh," he groaned. His voice was of a higher pitch than Merry had estimated, and scratchier. "Oh, Kitty, you'll be the death of me."

"It was my fault!" Merry exclaimed. "I was chasing Edgar because he's obnoxious, and he ran into her!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Now stop it!" Kitty exclaimed. Abruptly, he twitched upright, straightening his shirt collar.

"Don't apologize so much," he said calmly, shooting his cuffs. Kitty glared at him. "But really, Kitty dear, didn't I tell you so?"

"Yes, yes, you did," muttered Kitty. "And I was all ready to be contrite about it, until you decided to overdramatize."

"I can see that. You even brought a friend to help exonerate you. My, my," he said, leaning over to peer at Merry. She met his gaze, unconsciously setting her chin. "Oh, but you're _cute_!" he chirped. Merry felt herself flush and looked away stubbornly.

"Oh! Mel, this is Merryweather Hargreaves," Kitty exclaimed, remembering her manners. "Merryweather, this is Melvin Howard, my brother."

"Nice to meet you!" said Merry, a bit louder than she needed to, extending her hand.

"Howdy do," said Mel, kissing the back of her hand, managing to keep that Cheshire Cat grin as he did so. Merry relaxed a little. It didn't _seem_ like he was flirting… she'd seen Cain flirt plenty of times, and she was fairly sure this was not how it was done.

"Mel…" Kitty began, but she was cut off.

"So, am I to assume you've made friends?" Mel asked, quirking an eyebrow. Kitty started, and looked at Merry, who shrugged. "Because it would make sense… the two cutest girls in the room, as well as the shortest, making friends, and all."

"I know I'm short!" Kitty made a face at him.

"I'm ten! I'll still grow!" Merry protested, starting forward.

"Did I ever say you wouldn't?" he laughed, waving off their advance. "And what's wrong with being short? Why I myself wouldn't be able to dance with half the women here, if not for the lifts in my shoes…"

"You wouldn't dance with them anyway," Kitty snorted. Mel looked sheepish.

"What _were_ you doing all alone in this corner, anyway?" Merry queried, sensing a weakness. He avoided both the girls' gazes.

"I was…" he mumbled. "I was… peoplewatching?"

"You were being a recluse, again!" Kitty accused. "You complain that you don't know anybody at parties, but that's because you don't go out to meet anybody! You hide in the corner eating biscuits and then wonder why you didn't have a good time!"

"Hey, I was hungry," he whined, but feebly.

"That's no excuse," said Merry firmly. "It's a party, you ought to socialize! It's New Year's, for goodness' sake!"

"Well…" he tried, he honestly did, but it was too late. He'd been railroaded.

"Whatever are we going to do with you?" sighed Kitty, looking at him with tilted head. Merry pretended to ponder as well, but she'd already thought of a solution.

"Hah! I've got it!" she grinned, thumping her fist into her palm and trying to look as plottingly evil as she could. This would be payback for the 'cute' comment…as well as backlogged revenge on Cain, hopefully.

"What? What?" Kitty urged gleefully, as Mel seemed to wilt.

"My brother doesn't socialize much at parties either, he either flirts too much or stays in a corner being grumpy," Merry explained. "We should introduce him to Mel!"

"Okay!" Kitty hurrahed. She grabbed Mel's wrist, and Merry latched on to the other. "Where's your brother?"

Merry stood on tiptoe to survey the ballroom, and finally spotted him off in a corner, clad all in black and draped over the edge of a mantle, twiddling his cane and looking bored.

"Come on!" she exclaimed, and tugged the two of them out onto the floor. "He's over here!"

It was harder work to get across the floor this time, with one more person, a person who was doing his best to be dead weight. Mel wore a rather blank, confused expression, but the weariness in it indicated that this wasn't the first time that Kitty, at least, had dragged him off to do something like this. Merry had to smile. She liked Kitty and Mel, Kitty because she was cute and still playful, with an aura of complete innocence, and Mel because he was weird, but personable. Funny, too, but not a clown, like Oscar.

When they were a few feet from Cain, Mel stopped short, and made a small noise, as though the breath had been knocked out of him. Merry followed his gaze to where it rested, on the elegant profile of her elder brother, the Earl of Hargreaves. She looked at Mel, suddenly a little worried, but all that she read in his face was a vague sort of apprehension. So he had heard of the Earl of Poisons, then. Merry and Kitty tugged on his wrists again, and they all stumbled forward.

Earl Cain turned to look at them, one dark brow arched aristocratically under soft, dark auburn, almost black locks. His green-gold gaze went from Merry, to Kitty, who gave a cry of delight, and rested on Mel. Mel twitched his wrists from the two girls' grip.

"Big brother," Merry started, planting her hands on her hips. "This is my friend Kitty Howard, and her brother Melvin."

"A pleasure," he murmured, catching Kitty's hand and pressing a slow kiss to the back of it. Merry twitched. That, she was certain, was flirting. "Such beauty and innocence in one girl is a rarity." Kitty was flustered, but she did manage to register his comment.

"I'm not pretty!" she protested, blushing. Cain released her hand, arching an eyebrow at her aristocratically.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Kitty, learn to take a complement!" exclaimed Mel, the tone of his voice indicating a very old argument.

"But it's true, I'm not!" Kitty frowned at him.

"You are _so_, pretty. And talented, and good at drawing," Mel stuck out his tongue at her. Kitty shook her head.

"Kitty's pretty!" Merry chirped, not about to be left out of the fun. "Kitty's pretty, Kitty's pretty!" Merry sang, tackling Kitty with a hug.

"Am _not_!" Kitty insisted, as she tried not to smother.

Mel, noting the Earl of Hargreaves' quizzical expression, flushed a little and felt the need to explain.

"She's always like this," he shrugged. "I've tried to bully her into taking compliments, but it always backfires."

"You're her brother?" Cain asked, sounding a little bored.

"No, I'm actually her Samoan valet in whiteface makeup. I'm undercover to make sure the chimney sweep's guild doesn't assassinate her," Mel replied, completely straight-faced.

Cain was saved from having to address that _non sequiteur _by Merry and Kitty, who were apparently done with their hug fight over compliments, and were now standing assembled, giggling.

"My brother is too handsome for his own good," asserted Merry. Cain closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead. "So he thinks he can get away with anything."

"With a face like that, he could get away with murder?" Kitty chirped. Cain started visibly, but relaxed at Kitty's next statement. "That's what Mel always says about me."

"It's the truth," Mel insisted, speaking to Kitty, but his gaze was fixed on Cain.

"Doesn't matter! He's cute so we forgive him, right?" sang Kitty, dancing forward to give Cain a hug around the middle. He froze, caught off guard, and was still frozen when Kitty broke away.

"That'll show him," Merry smirked happily, and took Kitty by the hand. "Come on! Let's go find Edgar and beat him up!"

"With boys his age, _cuddling_ is usually more of a punishment!" Kitty advised, allowing herself to be dragged off. "Bye Mel, play nice!"

Cain and Mel's corner of the room suddenly became much quieter.

* * *

_Well, sorry, all, but I simply couldn't resist. I apologize to people who don't like OC's, but I'm primarily an original fiction writer. OC's are my strong point, so of course I'll have them featured…_

_Anyway, this isn't pointless, directionless, or sheer wish fulfillment. I actually have a plot, an honest-to-god, mapped-out plot. Because reading Cain Saga etc. made me want to make a doujinshi, but I don't have the time or the energy. So I'm writing this, the 'novelization' of what my doujin would be…I'm trying to keep the plot in the spirit of the original, but I'm afraid my poor brain can't take quite that many twists and double-blinds. And I have a terrible habit of liking to leave a story with all the characters alive, OC or not. Ah, well, we'll see how it turns out!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Blah, whatever, don't own it._

* * *

Mel gazed after the two girls thoughtfully, as Cain subjected him to a very suspicious stare. Finally, Mel felt obliged to break the silence.

"That's the first time in a long time that she's randomly hugged anyone," he sighed, smiling faintly. "It must be a good sign."

"She isn't always that friendly?" Cain grunted, feeling a bit misused. He did not appreciate such a degree of familiarity from some girl he had just met, even if she _was_ his type.

"She used to be, but she got shy after… well, I suppose it's not that strange," Mel shrugged. "Say, have you been reading the papers? The body of another Mason was found in the Thames last week. Someone's going to get the entire society of Freemasons coming down on their head soon," Mel said idly, changing the subject.

"Yes, I had read about it, but I wasn't aware that anybody but me had made the connexion between this and the other three murders," Cain replied, perking up. "So you do think it's because they're Freemasons?"

"More than likely," Mel nodded. "The _modus operandi_ is the same; blunt force trauma, and the bodies have all been dumped far from their original residences."

"But what of the third murder, of the Mason who was beaten to death with a _sharp_ object, and was dumped on the doorstep of the family physician?" Cain insisted, leaning in, expression eager, if morbidly so.

"Well, I haven't all the details, but it's probably coincidence, or else a copycat," said Mel, hunching his shoulders. His bright, Cheshire grin reappeared. "This is fun. I hardly suspected the Earl of Poisons would follow such an unremarkable set of murders."

"Anything serial is far from unremarkable," Cain returned, archly. "I like to pay attention to all kinds of murders, and disappearances too, just in case."

"Ah, and here I must confess, I'm a bit of a phony," Mel said sheepishly. "I've only acquired such a morbid hobby recently, at least, only recently pursued it with any seriousness."

"You were residing in the country until recently, am I right?" Cain asked. He continued before Mel could reply. "Naturally. It is harder to get the city papers with any consistency, out in most of the more remote estates."

"That is true," nodded Mel, scratching the back of his neck.

"But I wouldn't doubt that your avid interest in murders _does_ have a more recent incentive," mused Cain, leaning against the wall and watching Mel grow uncomfortable again with interest. "I thought the name Howard sounded familiar. It is rather scandalous, don't you think, to be taking your sister out into society so soon after your parents' deaths?"

Mel looked stricken, but not altogether surprised. It did take him a while, however, to rally and explain.

"Kitty… Kitty was there," he finally said, in a whisper. "Kitty saw everything—the murders, the culprit… but she can't remember any of it."

Cain drew back a little, confusion written in his expression and focusing his green-gold eyes.

"Can't… remember?" he asked. "Why not? Does she know her parents are dead?"

"I've no idea," said Mel bleakly. "Yes, she does know they're dead, but she has no recollection of the incident, and she's probably still in shock, too, which is why she isn't locked in a water closet somewhere sobbing. I came home from the Continent as soon as I heard."

"You were abroad?" Cain queried.

"I'm always abroad," said Mel darkly. "It was only chance that I wasn't in Tibet at the time of the murders. I've been completely disowned, you know. My parents gave me a choice, after the first time I disappeared into the Orient, to either come home and be responsible, or get cut off completely. Kitty was the only thing that made the decision hard."

"And yet you have come to London to seek revenge for their deaths," Cain observed.

"Well, yes and no. Mostly I'm seeking to pull out the intestines of the rat bastard who killed my parents _in front of Kitty_," growled Mel, radiating cold fury for an instant, to such a degree that Cain nearly flinched. "She's my innocent… to shatter _that_… no, it's not something I can forgive. I'm only grateful she can't remember, even if it does mean I have to seek out the murderer from scratch."

"It's curious that she cannot remember," Cain mused. An idea, more of a suspicion, struck him. "Do you think she could have been hypnotized by the murderer?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Mel contemplated. He shook his head a little. "But Kitty always was very adept at censoring her own memory to edit out bad experiences. She attended a boarding school when she was much younger, a place that from what I hear was truly horrible, and to this day she can't recall a single day of her time there. No, it's probably amnesia, of a very focused variety."

"Still, hypnosis could be a possibility," insisted Cain. Mel shrugged in acquiescence. Cain frowned, as he thought of something else. "But how did you come to be her guardian, if you were disowned?"

"I'm not her guardian," grinned Mel complacently. "Kitty doesn't need a guardian. She's of legal age, eighteen, to be precise."

Earl Cain was a man of great composure. If he hadn't been, he felt sure he would have taken that opportunity to fall over.

"But she's so short!" was all he could think to say. At that, Mel burst into raucous laughter.

"Just goes to show, eh?" said Mel happily. "I came back in the middle of a vicious custody battle between my aunts and uncles. They'd been so caught up lusting after her money that they'd clean forgotten she doesn't need to be in anybody's custody! I'm really just a figurehead. Although, it seems I have proven useful here in town. People aren't inclined to take Kitty very seriously, even with a chunk of inheritance money, and what we got from selling the manor."

"So, you didn't just relocate into the city temporarily, you sold the estate?" Cain asked, with an amazed grin of his own. "I can imagine your relatives were pleased about that."

"I nearly caught fire from the glares they gave me," Mel grinned amicably. "They're convinced that I'm going to be a ruinous influence on Kitty. But it's not as though the property isn't in the family anymore. I made sure to sell it to another branch. The branch with more money."

"HAY!" came a hearty shout, and all of a sudden, a great, gingery-haired buffoon of a man swooped down on Cain, elbowing him familiarly in the shoulder.

"Oscar?" Cain gaped. "What are you doing here? I thought you hadn't been invited!"

"You wound me, Cain!" cried Oscar dramatically. "I had envisioned you would be overjoyed to see me!"

"What would make you think that?" Cain mumbled. "You still didn't answer the question."

"Of course I was invited," huffed Oscar indignantly. "I may be disowned, but I'm still a Gabriel!"

"Of course," sighed Cain. "Now that I know you're here, will you please go away? There are other people here who can advance you in your parents' good graces much better than I can."

"Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't want me!" said Oscar, laughing loudly. "But that's absurd, because after all, I'm your future brother-in-law!"

Mel's head was tilted to one side almost horizontally, his expression as lost as the Bermuda Triangle. Cain gave a resigned groan.

"Oh, hey, who's this?" Oscar asked eagerly, noticing Mel. "You've actually made a friend at a party that isn't a lady? Introduce us, Cain!"

"Oscar, this is Melvin Howard. Oscar Gabriel is a trick baboon someone dressed up and let in as a joke," Cain monotoned with a bored wave of his hand. Oscar made a wordless exclaimation of offense.

"Hah!" chirped Mel, gazing at Oscar with wide, amused eyes. "He's so comical. Is he doing it on purpose, or is he really that absurd?"

"What did I ever do to you?" Oscar pleaded, acting hurt. "Cain, you've been influencing him!"

"If I dropped a banana peel, I feel certain he would slip on it," hummed Mel brightly, still speaking as though observing a particularly entertaining animal in the Zoological Gardens. "Are all your friends so interesting, Lord Cain?"

"Where's Merryweather, Cain?" asked Oscar eagerly, mostly to avoid Mel's demeaning show of curiosity. "I want to have a dance with her. It is my right after all!"

"Are you insane?" Cain asked conversationally, not really requiring an answer.

"I like him," announced Mel stalwartly. "You are an entertaining human being, Oscar Gabriel."

"Entertaining _baboon_," corrected Cain, but quietly.

"Well, at least somebody appreciates me," said Oscar happily. "Say, we'd make some team, eh? Maybe you'll be the one to bridge the gap between me and my future brother!" laughed Oscar, thumping Mel on the back. Mel lurched forward at the thump and staggered a bit, thrown off-balance.

"Not terribly likely," said Mel, with a glance at Cain. "_I_ like you, but I can see why _he_ doesn't."

"He makes the collective intelligence of any gathering decrease, sharply, with his introduction into it," Cain grumbled, looking the other way. Oscar only shrugged.

"Well, boys, let's go make a night of it! It's New Year's, after all!" he cheered. Mel grinned and bowed, offering an arm to both Oscar and Cain.

"Come now, let's all start off the gossip columnists' year with a bang," Mel chirped, as Oscar linked arms with him and Cain, reluctantly, peeled himself off the wall to follow, at Mel's elbow but not attached to it. "Does anybody else feel the need to spike the punch?"

* * *

_Well, I'm sorry about all the exposition in the first bit, but it's necessary if the plot is to run with any coherence at all. Hee, Oscar's an entertaining character. Ever notice how he always bursts out of the shadows like an obnoxious ninja? I wonder if they would have known what a ninja was, back then, to be able to make the comparison…?_

_Anyway, more of our familiar protagonist. I hope I've characterized him right. I always worry about canon characterization. By the way, did you know that Kaori Yuki has a Bacon number of four? And by virtue of that, Hakushaku Cain has a Bacon number of five. I wonder if that means Hakushaku Cain fanfic authors have a Bacon number of six…?!!?! That's really low!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Don't own it. Am not pretending to. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera._

* * *

"Ooh, Lord Cain!"

A flock of brightly-colored females descended upon the hapless Earl, as he tried, albeit futilely, to hide behind the buffet table.

"Good evening, ladies," he bowed, setting the plate of fancy crackers back on the table with a mental curse. "Society is especially radiant tonight," he smirked, perfectly concealing his irritation.

"Made all the more so for your presence, my lord," said a dark-haired demoiselle in a red taffeta gown. "We are rarely so favoured." She batted her lashes.

"I _know_, Lord Cain, daddy nearly passed out when he received your acceptance to our invitation," giggled a brunette in a gold and lavender ensemble. Judging from her comment and attitude, she was Ophelia Lavot, the eldest daughter of the host family.

"And with your sister, as well," chirped a shorter girl, one with fair hair and a white dress trimmed in ribbons. "She is simply adorable!"

"It is she you should thank for my attendance," Cain bowed again. "She requested we come, and I could not refuse her. It is, after all, New Year's."

"Indeed! Oh, Lord Cain, have you been to any of our celebrations in the past?" Ophelia inquired eagerly, leaning closely so that he would have a choice view down her décolletage. Cain appreciated the effort, but he really wasn't in the mood. His mission was being thwarted.

_There's a duck pond outside, brother_, Merryweather had said. _Can you have someone fetch us some biscuits to feed the ducks?_

Cain had looked from Merryweather, beaming up at him, to Kitty beside her, just as excited, and then over at Oscar and Mel, who were drinking toasts to everything from the Prime Minister to the Afghan campaign to having noses, and had been filled with a feeling like all his clothes were made of straw. He needed an excuse to abandon them, even if only for a few minutes.

_No need, Merry,_ he'd replied. _The buffet table is just over there. Wait here, and I'll fetch you a platter of crackers._

Now, he was intensely regretting his decision, and feeling resentful towards the sensation that had caused him to make it.

"No, I'm afraid I have been deprived of that pleasure," he replied to Ophelia's question.

"Oh, then you haven't anything to compare it to. I was going to ask how it stood up, but—"

"Excuse me, ladies, sir," a reedy voice interrupted her. Cain slowly turned, to face with mild astonishment, Melvin Howard.

"Yes, Mel, what is it?" Cain asked, eager to grasp at such a lifeline. Mel grinned like a cat at the present company, and bowed slightly to each of the females in turn. Cain was a little surprised to see their reactions.

"Lord Cain, an acquaintance of yours?" asked Ophelia, breathlessly. She straightened up and cast Mel a pointy smile. "You must introduce us!"

"I've never seen you at any events here in town," the dark-haired girl asserted.

"That's because I haven't been to any," Mel shrugged. "I'm Melvin Howard. Lady Ophelia's family probably invited my sister, and got me as well."

"You know my name?" Ophelia seemed surprised, and inordinately pleased.

"I would be remiss not to know the name of my host's daughter," Mel grinned. "Oh, right, Cain. Merry says she wants to talk to you, and it's urgent."

"I see," said Cain, picking up the platter of crackers with relief. "Well, my ladies, it appears that my sister grows impatient. Adieu."

He disappeared through the crowd quickly, leaving Mel the center of attention of the crowd of ladies.

"Mr. Howard?" the fair-haired one in white asked. "Do you dance?"

"Only on other people's feet," Mel grinned, and the girls all laughed.

"We can teach you to use your own, then," smiled Ophelia, and dragged him by the hand to the dance floor.

* * *

"Dear brother, whatever took you so long?" Merry asked, arms akimbo, one slippered foot tapping.

"Never mind that," Cain smoothed, bending to kiss Merry's hair and handing the biscuits to her. "Go feed those ducks."

"Come on, Merry!" Kitty smiled, taking the younger girl by the hand and leading her off towards the terrace, and the steps that led down to the garden from it.

Cain heaved a sigh, once they were gone. He now found himself alone, except for Oscar. Oscar didn't really count.

"Ha ha, that Mel really is a ladykiller," boomed the ginger-haired man. Cain followed his gaze, to where Mel and Ophelia were dancing, Mel clumsy but both laughing, with a flock of girls to one side calling out that they wanted to teach him, too. "He saw you getting all the attention and went straight over!"

"You mean, it wasn't Merry's idea?" Cain asked, puzzled.

"Of course it was Merry's idea! That girl really is the brightest flower in the room, you know. Sheerly brilliant! Ahem. But Mel pointed your harem out to Merry," Oscar hummed merrily.

"Harem?" Cain choked.

"Mel's word, not mine!" laughed Oscar. "He was laughing about it though, which is probably why Merry didn't storm over by herself!"

"That certainly is… peculiar," Cain frowned. There was no doubt in his mind that Mel had mounted a rescue mission, but it troubled him to think that he'd looked like he needed rescuing, especially from that far away. And if Mel had considered a flock of women something to be rescued from, why had he sacrificed himself to it? Cain almost felt obliged to go rescue Mel back, as Ophelia pretended to trip and ended up entangled in his arms.

But no, it appeared that Mel was more enterprising than that. In that brief moment, he said something in Ophelia's ear that made her draw back, surprised. Mel scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and bowed to all the girls in turn. He left them with an awkward grin, and to Cain's amazement, not a one of them tried to follow him. Neither did they look any less besotted than when he had first appeared. Cain would have to get Mel to teach him that trick.

"Hallo, all," Mel greeted, plucking the champagne glass from Oscar's hand and finishing it off with an economical gulp. He leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded over a Cheshire grin.

"You dog, you," Oscar thumped him on the back. "You had them in the palm of your hand, with about as much effort as Cain!"

"Well…" a blush started up his neck.

"And then you go and leave them all hanging! They let you leave, too, without you even having to get slapped!" Oscar laughed, almost obscenely.

"I had to get away," he shrugged. "They're nice girls, but I'd rather chat with you two."

"Your priorities are the most depraved and skewed of any I've ever seen," Oscar said solemnly. Cain rather thought so too, if Mel _really_ preferred Oscar's company as well as his own. Then again, most of the females present had heads full of air, and conversations to match.

"I told them I promised my sister I'd help feed the ducks," Mel confided to Cain, behind his hand. "So I have to look like I'm going outside."

Kitty and Merry, who just then dashed up to them, shivering, saved them the trouble of any pantomime.

"What's the matter? Did you fall in?" Cain asked, relieving his sister of the tray of biscuits. Oscar absentmindedly plucked one from the platter and began to munch.

"No, but its cold outside!" Merry exclaimed. "I forgot it was so late, and now it's freezing out there!"

"Mel, don't say it," Kitty warned. "Don't say 'I told you so.'"

"But I didn't tell you so," he blinked. "Oh, you silly thing. I don't understand how you get so cold so quickly," he sighed, and pulled the shivering Kitty into a hug, to warm her up. Merry glared a little, jealously, but hung back.

"Thank you," Kitty said.

"I'm not your personal warming pan," Mel chided mildly. "I'm not even that warm myself."

"Don't be silly, of course you are," smirked Kitty, although which statement she was affirming was a little ambiguous.

"Oh, come on," Mel finally made her dislodge. "Go find a valet or thingummy and get your coats. It's only an hour till midnight. More people will be going outside in a bit, to see the fireworks, anyway."

"Okay," sighed Kitty, and Merry took her by the hand, rescuing the biscuits from Cain and Oscar with the other. They were gone in a flurry, as suddenly as they had come. Oscar looked bereft, though whether it was from the removal of the crackers, or of Merry, was difficult to tell.

"Is it really eleven 'o' clock already?" Oscar mused, plucking his watch from his fob pocket.

"Time flies, eh?" Mel chirped.

"Well?" asked Cain, arching one sable eyebrow. "Are we going to follow our sisters?"

"Hmm…" Mel scanned the room. "No, we are not. I do believe I have spotted Miss Ophelia and her posse joining the exodus to the lawn. We can raid the buffet table once more and contrive to linger a little, can we not?"

"You don't fancy the Lady's company?" Cain asked, probably teasing. Mel made a face.

"Oh, she's all right, I suppose… although she's not really my type," he shrugged.

"Not your type?" Oscar inquired incredulously. "She's rich, well connected, and beautiful. What's not to like!"

"That's just the thing," Mel frowned slightly, running a hand over his chin. "I imagine she'd be hard to impress." Oscar slapped his knee with a grin.

"Isn't that just!" he guffawed. Mel fidgeted.

"Who says you need to impress her?" Cain drawled. "Besides, she seemed pretty impressed by just you."

"Oh, did she?" Mel said vaguely. "I thought she was just marking territory."

"Oh well, what the hell," Oscar said, sing-song like. He suddenly sat to attention, ears pricked like a dog's. "Hear that? Another bottle of champagne's been opened!"

Oscar, following his ears, led the other two across the floor. Cain sipped conservatively at the glass of bubbly he was handed, and watched Oscar and Mel drink a toast to easily impressed females.

* * *

Out by the pond, Merry and Kitty, now swathed in their velvety cloaks and woolen pelisses, were happily throwing crumbled crackers out at the skittish ducks. Usually, the ducks were asleep at night, but all the noise and light from the party had kept them awake. A few lazy, mud-coloured carp blubbed to the surface occasionally, to gobble what crumbs the ducks missed.

"We're friends now, right?" Merry asked Kitty. Kitty started, blinking.

"Well… sure, why not?" she shrugged cheerfully. In her adult opinion, it took a lot more than a few hours of running around a party together to build a friendship with someone, but Merry was vibrant and personable enough to be an exception. There was a moment of silence, as they threw more crackers at the ducks, before Merry spoke again.

"You like my brother, don't you?" Merry asked, but it was more of a statement. Kitty jumped and blushed.

"Well, yes, he's very handsome…" Kitty murmured. "And dark and mysterious, and a little bit dangerous… I think Mel would call him suave."

"Kitty, he's—" Merry began, but Kitty continued.

"He makes me want to scruffle his hair," she grinned, cutely evil. "He's like a cat. I want to scratch behind his ears."

Merry burst out laughing, at the image of a proud, irritated Cain tomcat being forced into cuddling by a determined Kitty. She'd been about to warn Kitty off him, out of concern for her friend's innocence and probably more than a little jealousy, but it seemed her fears were unfounded. Perhaps it was Cain who needed to be warned, for his own safety…?

"I wish I had a cat, but Cain only brings me dolls and teddy bears," Merry sighed. "One I could dress up, and have a tea party with, or use as a pillow at night."

"You could try dressing up Cain and having a tea party with him," suggested Kitty, and the two girls burst out laughing crazily again.

"Have you ever had a cat?" Merry asked, serious again. Kitty nodded.

"Yes, but he died of old age," she said, but when she looked up, she was smiling. "But it doesn't matter as much now that Mel's back."

"Huh?" Merry tilted her head. Cain as a cat she could understand, with his cat's eyes and easy grace. But gangly, twitchy, Mel? Kitty just grinned.

"I'll show you what I mean later," she said, and then started as a flash of light caught her attention. "Ooh, look! They've got sparklers!"

* * *

_Hee, Cain as a cat. …! That's another plotbunny for another day, however. Right now I'm sticking to this one. Just a little bit of moving characters around this chapter. I'm working on getting canon characterization right, I promise…I think I'm doing best with Oscar, but they're all hard to get right. I'm not really sure how Cain acts at parties, because in the books he's always either being antisocial or chasing murderers or picking up chicks…heheh, no, Mel doesn't particularly like girls. Although… from his attitude, one supposes it would be more accurate to say that he isn't impressed by Ophelia, not that he feels she wouldn't be impressed by him._

_I'll have plot in the next chapter, swear to howdy! Or if not, then I'll at least have Riff._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Whatever._

* * *

At ten till midnight, Cain, Oscar and Mel staked out the back of the crowd, facing the location across the river where the fireworks were to be set off from. Mel was jittering faintly from the cold, and though Oscar seemed unaffected, Cain felt rather sympathetic. It was almost January, as it were, and although an unexpected thaw had turned most of the snow temporarily into mud, it was still nearly freezing.

Just as Cain was about to suggest that Mel go back into the house to find his valet to fetch his coat and hat, Riff materialized out of nowhere, with a pile of coats in his arms and two top hats.

"Oh ho ho!" Oscar cheered, fishing his tweed overcoat out of the pile and slinging it over his shoulder. "Riff, old man, I was wondering when you'd surface!"

"Are—are those mine?" Mel queried, indicating one of the coats and top hats, mystified.

"Yes, Sir Howard," Riff nodded with a faint smile. He handed the heavier of the remaining coats and the shabbier top hat to Mel, who looked a little thunderstruck as he shrugged into the cape.

"Its just Mel, Sir Howard is my uncle," he waved. "But how the devil did you know which one was mine? You're Cain's manservant, right?"

Riff nodded silently, helping Cain into his overcoat. Cain had a decent idea of how Riff had deduced to bring Oscar and Mel's things as well as his own, but the distraction such an unknown factor was causing Mel was very entertaining.

"No, no, no, don't tell me," Mel held up a hand. "I know, you're magic!"

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Riff blinked, silvery eyebrows shooting up. Cain bit his lip trying not to laugh outright.

"I should have guessed Cain would have a magic valet. Although they're usually Indian. The complexion threw me," Mel discoursed, his Cheshire cat grin reaffixing itself to his face. Oscar shook his head, grinning.

"Maybe that last champagne toast was too much for you, eh?" he chuckled. "It's affecting your brain, Mel!"

"I wouldn't be surprised. He's nowhere near your weight class, Oscar," Cain smirked.

"Are you insinuating that I'm drunk?" Mel drew himself up to his full height, which was a futile gesture.

"Mel!" Kitty called, emerging from the crowd with Merry. "They had sparklers, but you missed it."

"So pretty," Merry murmured, a look of peaceful wonder on her face.

"Getting tired, Miss Merryweather?" Riff inquired of her gently.

"No, I have to see the fireworks!" Merry protested, suddenly a lot more energetic. Kitty grinned.

"Well then, come on, we have to all get a good place near the front to watch," she urged, tugging on Mel's hand. Mel sighed.

"No, dear, _we_ don't. You do, because you're too short to have a decent view from inside a crowd," he teased. Kitty frowned at him, but he only smiled.

"I know I'm short," she grumped.

"I want to watch the fireworks with Cain and Mel," pouted Merry, making puppy-dog eyes at Kitty.

"You won't _see_ them," Kitty insisted. "You're too short as well."

"We'll see," said Mel, turning around. He hunched down, and looked over his shoulder at Merry, his hands cupped in stirrup shape behind his back. "Climb aboard. Aim for the shoulders."

"Oh!" exclaimed Merry, and used his hands to boost herself onto his shoulders, where she perched, clutching around his neck for support, even as he straightened up. "I can see over the crowd!"

Cain frowned, an ugly expression that darkened his eyes. He didn't know why, but seeing Merry that happy with Mel plunged icy fingers into his chest. Kitty, too, looked up at them with hurt in her aqua eyes, along with the knowledge that, however short she may be, she herself was far too big to be picked up and carried so easily by her brother. Riff watched with guarded carefulness, and Oscar laughed.

"Well, that's a solution! Gets the little lady off her feet, too," he grinned, amicably oblivious.

"Hmm. I'm going to find someplace to watch, closer up," Kitty said, and moved off through the crowd, more sedately than earlier in the night. Merry leaned forward, taking in the night sky and drinking in the excitement, as though it could keep her awake longer.

"Oh, out with the pocketwatches!" Oscar remarked, pulling his from his fob pocket. "Five minutes 'till midnight!"

"Five minutes until a new year begins. I wonder what it will bring with it…?" Cain murmured, but only Riff, standing at his elbow, heard him.

"Your hair smells nice," murmured Merry, resting her chin on top of Mel's head. "Girly, but nice." Mel flushed, and Cain looked at him curiously.

"I… must have… used Kitty's soap…" he stumbled, trying to catch a bit of his hair and smell for himself.

"Hey, the crowd's moving," said Oscar. "I wonder why?"

Indeed, the crowd had shifted positions, and as someone shot off a test flare for the fireworks, they found out why. The stately group of trees and the tangle of shrubbery that bordered the estate completely blocked the group's view of the fireworks.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Merry.

"You'd better go find Kitty," said Mel, sinking down so that she could slide off his back. "She's sure to have someplace with a good view near the front. That girl navigates crowds like Ferdinand Magellan."

"But you all won't be able to see!" she protested, tugging on Mel's sleeve.

"There is a tray of champagne resting on that pillar over there," mentioned Riff quietly.

"We'll be fine!" exclaimed Mel and Oscar simultaneously, and Cain groaned a little.

"If you say so," smiled Merry, and dashed off into the crowd.

"We'll be able to see the higher fireworks, at least," said Mel, peering upwards. "Good thing it's a clear night."

"Riff, my man, about that champagne?" Oscar nudged. Riff heaved a barely discernable sigh and went off for the tray of champagne. When he returned, there was barely time to hand around four glasses before the party guests all started to count down the last ten seconds until the New Year.

"Five…four…three…two…one. Happy New Year's!" cheered the masses, and the first brilliant cascade of fireworks shot into the sky.

"Cheers!" said Mel and Oscar, and Riff and Cain joined the toast rather more conservatively. Downing the glass in one go, Oscar quickly struck up a chorus of 'Auld Lang Syne' in a hearty, rugby-cheer voice. Riff joined in, singing surprisingly well, and Mel contributed a scratchy, thin alto. Cain didn't say a word, but he was caught waving his glass to the beat.

The fireworks continued, unleashing blasts of light, color and sound into the atmosphere. Every bang sounded like a gunshot. Suddenly, both Mel and Cain went still, and looked at each other.

"Hear that?" Mel asked, hushedly.

"No firework attached," said Cain, glancing at the sky. Oscar might as well have had a huge question mark perched over his head, and Riff was frowning.

"Over there, in the trees!" Mel exclaimed, pointing.

"Are you sure?" Cain replied.

"Where else?" asked Mel, glancing back at him, already dashing towards the trees.

"Sir Cain?" asked Riff, joining Cain in following Mel. Oscar hung back.

"Oh," said Mel very softly, stopping short just beyond the edge of the trees. Cain, coming up behind him, sucked in his breath.

Sprawled in the grass with a bullet wound the size of a canal through her head lay a girl, a party guest, a fair-haired girl dressed in white. For a moment, Cain's heart almost stopped, until he realized that it wasn't Kitty. It was a girl who had been with Ophelia, earlier. Cain hadn't learned her name.

"Oh, no," said Mel, even softer, as he knelt beside the body, and gently touched the raw, pulpy explosion of matter that had been a living girl's brain.

"Riff, have Oscar call the police, and then get Merryweather out of here!" Cain exclaimed, whirling around. Riff paused, then bowed and started to leave. "No, wait," said Cain, glancing back at Mel. "Take Kitty, too."

"Thank you," murmured Mel. His tone was dreamy, but when he looked up at Cain, his eyes were hard and clinical. Cain recognized the expression. It was similar to his own when he was analyzing a problem.

"Soft-nosed expanding revolver bullet, by the looks of it," said Cain. "Probably from something that would fit in a man's pocket."

"They can't have gone far," said Mel tightly, standing up. "Or moved the body."

"Which means the bullet ought to be nearby," said Cain, walking towards a tree with a fresh-looking chip in the bark. Mel looked around, and started off determinedly in the other direction. "Where are you—" Cain started to ask.

"Tell Kitty I'll be all right. I'm going hunting," he said, and swirled his overcoat off into the darkness.

Cain just stood there, beside the body, with the party lights glinting off his yellow eyes, as a group of servants and officials, headed up by Oscar, came running up. He looked back, then down at the body, then up at Mel's quickly disappearing silhouette.

"I'm coming with you," he called, and stepped over the corpse to trot after Mel, who paused, looking surprised and gratified.

"Are you sure?" Mel asked, realizing it was a stupid question the minute it was out of his mouth. Of course Cain was sure.

"How do you plan to track them, in the dark?" inquired Cain, ignoring the other's question with mild disdain.

"This bit of woods has access to the street at the far end, a very tall wall of thornbrush-covered stone to our right, and the house to our left," said Mel, still calmly plunging forward.

"How do you know that?" Cain asked, mildly impressed.

"I like to pay attention to things," Mel shrugged. "If the culprit returned to the party, we are completely out of luck. There weren't many people near the scene, though, so we probably would have noticed them. So they could either have used a servant's entrance to return to the house, or gone out into the road for a cab."

"We're heading for the road," said Cain to affirm.

"Because that route would require a more urgent pursuit," nodded Mel. The brush suddenly thinned out again, and Cain stumbled into Mel's back, and they both emerged on the sidewalk beside the grand façade of the house.

* * *

_Well, wasn't that exciting! A murder on New Year's. Gunshot noise disguised as firework. Would have gone undetected, if not for Cain and Mel's superior… uhh… unusual… god-modding skills. Okay, I admit to stretching probability here. I'll probably continue to do so, if this mystery is to be solved and make any sort of narrative sense. … But hey! On the bright side, you have Riff! I don't know exactly what –he- does at parties either, so I made him rather long-suffering and dry. It works, I suppose. Next time, on Hume Nisbet: Fireworks – exciting chase scenes, comic relief, and quack genetics!_


End file.
